


Meneltarma

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: General, Multi-Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2005-06-23
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3745099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles about the Midsummer feast of Numenor, Erulaitale. Written for the Lithe Day Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rising

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

At first the host is alive with voices, but as they ascend the newly-crafted road, the sound dies away. When the last steps off the man-built pathway into the untouched green sward, the silence is complete. The holiness of the site overwhelms all who set foot therein, making speech impossible.

Or perhaps not. Only gradually does the multitude become aware of a voice speaking in the hallowed stillness. The words blend with the silence, exalting it to the eagles circling above, molding it into an expression of all that lies in their hearts: Praise to the Father of All, _Erulaitalë_.


	2. Waxing

The King turns to look over the multitude behind him, a sea of dark heads garlanded with bright flowers. He turns to his son, standing, ever-faithful, beside him.

"They are beautiful, are they not?"

His son nods, silent near the sacred Hallow.

"Leading them is a heavy responsibility, but you are well-prepared." He rests a hand on the strong shoulder. "Be ready; next Midsummer, you will speak on _Erulaitalë_."

Before there can be any reply, he takes the last steps to the summit. In the holy silence, he prepares to speak, ready to offer praise to Eru for his Gift.


	3. Waning

The mother struggles to fit the white garments on her wriggling son, explaining once again the importance of the day.

"We are going to the Hallow of Eru to offer praise. It is so holy that none but the King may speak, and he only on feastdays."

The child looks up at her. "But Father is not coming."

The woman's hands still momentarily. "No." He tries again to escape, and she pulls him back. "Perhaps when you are King, you will speak there."

The child's grey eyes darken. Perhaps he sees more of what will be than his mother knows.


	4. Darkness

She tells herself not to worry. He is only slightly late; it is Midsummer; surely he has simply been distracted. But her rationalizations are all in vain; terror is growing in her heart.

In the end, she ventures out in search of him. Her task is not difficult, even in the crowded streets; she needs only to follow the voice of the soldier.

"The King has forbidden any to set foot upon the Meneltarma. Men of Anadûnê, behold the penalty for those who disobey our great and glorious monarch!"

The lifeless body sways slightly as the wind blows toward Aman.


	5. Rebirth

He stands alone upon the Pillar, a lonely island in the great waters. To him, it is the center of his sundered kin, East and West, above and beneath. He comes here in memory, and keeps the feastdays of old, though he cannot speak.

To him the fate of the Peredhil seems hardest of all, torn continually between two bloods, divided beyond the circles of the world. But here, such thoughts depart. Here, the blanket of silence comforts without words, reminding that Eru Ilúvatar forsakes none of his children. This is a place of praise, for here, he finds _estel_.


End file.
